Hermione answered the last question of her last N.E.W.T examination and put her pen down with a sigh. She was sure no one else in the room shared the sentiment, but she wanted more of this. Her studying mind-set was where she was most at peace. It was her happy place. Just her own mind and the knowledge of the whole universe at her fingertips. Even the examinations gave her a little adrenaline rush, this time without the fear of death. What would she do with herself now? Get a job? The idea of showing up at the same place at the same time every day, a place where someone could find her at the drop of a hat, was a scary thought. Old habits die hard, and six months after the war there was a part of her that was still on the run. And even so, she had never been able to work out what she wanted to be when she grew up. A mediwitch? A politician? A writer? That was tougher than any Charms examination question. She was startled out of her reverie by the chiming of a bell. Her Hogwarts journey was officially over. She thought this room might actually have been the site of her first Charms class, so it was fitting that this was where it would end. The exams normally took place in the Great Hall, but the smaller group of students gave them an excuse to hold them across the classrooms instead. No one needed to face that particular demon head-on today.

Ginny popped up out of nowhere and linked arms with Hermione. 'Freedom! No more musty old books!'

Hermione gave a murmur of agreement, but Ginny just shook her head, not fooled for a moment.

'I'm glad we got to take some of our exams together. Having you in the room made me feel a little smarter, like I was absorbing some of your genius.' Ginny cheerfully babbled on, while Hermione smiled and nodded, trying to fight off her melancholy. There would be time for the big questions later. For now she should celebrate the victory in front of her. To that end, the girls met up with some of their other classmates, and spent the afternoon lazing about in the sun and splashing water at each other by the edge of the lake. When the time came for Hermione to leave and meet her brother, she was dripping wet, courtesy of Ginny's push into the lake. Hermione had dragged her in too, so she had got her revenge. They could have dried themselves off with a simple spell, but that would have taken away some of the fun.

As Hermione waited outside a classroom for Theodore to finish his Defense practical, she tried very hard not to think about Draco Malfoy. When she had given him Luna's brownies, he had just stood there in the doorway with a vacant look. Eventually, she had stolen a brownie, placed the container at his feet, and then left. She had thought he would need some time to process things, but it had now been three weeks, and she hadn't heard a peep from him. She was glad that Luna hadn't asked how her brownies were received, because it seemed that Draco wasn't interested in Luna's invitation of friendship. And that he was no longer interested in Hermione's friendship, or anything else from her. She recited Thorton's Arithmancy principles in her head until she was back to not thinking about him.

When Theodore exited the room, he looked a little grim. He didn't even comment on her damp appearance.

'Did it go poorly? I thought you were confident about Defense?' Hermione asked, with a hand on his arm.

'What? Oh. No, the exam went fine. I aced it.'

She tilted her head. 'You don't look very happy about it.'

'Can we go somewhere, to talk?' he asked.

'Ok,' she agreed, thinking that it seemed like another Slytherin was going to break up with her.

Five minutes later they settled in to a desk at the Hogwarts library. The room was empty, without even Madam Pince's leering presence.

'So,' Theodore said. 'I have something to give you.'

'Oh,' Hermione said, confused. Perhaps she had misread his demeanour.

He pulled four black leather-bound books from his bag. 'I wanted to wait until after the N.E. , so that you wouldn't be distracted. But I just can't wait any longer.'

She tried to peer at the covers, but they had no titles that she could see. 'Well, you know I always love books.'

He took a deep breath. 'These are journals, written by Severus Snape.'

'Journals? By Severus Snape? Like "Dear Diary, today I tormented some first years"?' She was in shock. She could feel hysterical laughter ready to burst out. She hadn't heard that name mentioned in months, had tried her best not to even think it.

'More like research journals. They were in the possession of Draco Malfoy, and I asked him for them. I had to tell him about your parentage, but I swore him to secrecy. He won't tell anyone.'

So that solved the mystery of the disappearing Draco Malfoy. Theodore was watching her closely. She guessed that he was testing to see if she was ashamed of their relationship. She was careful not to show any shame, because she felt none. Only awkwardness at hearing Malfoy's name. 'And you thought that I would want them?' she asked.

He looked her straight in the eye. 'I've spent some time thinking about it. I know you feel conflicted about Snape, but I really think you should read them. Whatever else he was, the man was a genius. He was clever and ambitious. That's a connection you share.'

She shook her head. 'Some of the spells he created… he was the one responsible for Sectumsempra. How many people were felled by that spell on the battlefield?'

'That was one spell, created in his schoolboy days from what I heard. These journals are from after Voldemort's first fall, after Snape turned to Dumbledore. These journals are filled with dedicated research and experimentation from one of the sharpest minds the Wizarding World had to offer. Aren't you just a little bit curious?'

'Curiosity killed the cat,' she whispered.

'What?'

'Nevermind, just a Muggle saying. Look, I'll take the journals, but I'm not sure I could bring myself to read them.' She scooped them up and shoved them roughly into her bag.

'I know that you will,' he said. 'And if you ever need to talk about them, I'll listen. Just be careful with them though. The information in those books could be worth a fortune. Don't let it go to waste.'

They parted ways, and Hermione marched right over to the greenhouses. She had spent all morning not-thinking about Draco Malfoy, and yet there was a part of her that knew he was taking his Herbology N.E.W.T right now. She would camp outside the greenhouses and prepare for an ambush.

He was the first person out of the greenhouse, probably trying to avoid the glares of his ex-classmates. She waited by a group of nearby trees. She moved into his line of sight, waiting for his reaction. She thought she would be willing to go as far as a stunning spell if necessary, but it would be better to avoid making a scene. Fortunately, he walked towards her, and they retreated behind the trees for some privacy.

'You're avoiding me,' she said, hands on her hips.

'Does this look like avoidance?' he countered.

She glared at him, and he held up his hands in surrender.

'Severus Snape is your father,' Draco stated slowly.

'Biologically, yes. But it doesn't have any impact on my life now, it's practically meaningless trivia. So why did you start ignoring my letters?'

Draco plopped down on the grass. She gaped at him in shock. 'Sit down,' he said, 'and I'll try to explain.'

She sat. Now they were sitting cross-legged on the grass, like children, having a serious talk. She really hadn't anticipated this when they started their affair in that dingy bar.

'Severus Snape is my godfather. That's an important tie in the Wizarding World, second only to one's parents.'

Hermione nodded. She had heard rumours to that effect, but hadn't given it much serious thought at the time.

'But he was more than that. He saved my life, my soul. If he hadn't interfered with Dumbledore, my life would have been over, whether I had gone through with the murder or not. I would never have said so to his face, but he was my hero.'

'I can understand that,' Hermione said. 'But like I said, that has nothing to do with me.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'You know that isn't true. Look, I didn't read the journals. I've spent the last few years seeing people do horrible things, even my own parents. I need something to hold on to, even if I know it's just a sentimental illusion.'

'Then I won't tell you what's in the journals. I won't even read them myself.'

'That's not the problem,' he said. 'I just can't be around you right now. Your hatred for Snape will taint my own respect for him.'

'I don't hate him,' she insisted. 'I have no feelings about him whatsoever.'

'Maybe not hate, but something else. Whatever it is, you need to work through it. I wish I could help you, but I can't.'

She wanted to be annoyed with him, she really did, but she could see the sincerity in his eyes.

He continued with a smile. 'I've always been a coward. But you're not. You should use that ridiculous Gryffindor bravery and read those journals.' He leaned in and kissed her gently, pulling away before she could respond. He stood up. 'I sent Luna a thank you note for the brownies. They were delicious. The chilli was a nice surprise.' He walked away.

She swivelled around so she didn't have to watch his departure, then lay down, thumping her head against the ground. 'Slytherins,' she muttered. 'Banes of my existence.'

Harry poked the book with his wand, then stepped back quickly. 'You don't think they could be Horcruxes, do you?'

'No,' Hermione said. 'Snape would never have created a Horcrux. Besides, I think we would be able to recognise one by now, don't you?'

He shook his head. 'Well, I don't trust these journals. Maybe we should burn them, just to be safe?'

'No,' Hermione said quickly, grabbing the book from the table as though to shield it from Harry. 'Theodore's right. These books could contain unparalleled knowledge. Potions. Spells.' She plopped down on to the couch, laying her head on Ginny's shoulder. 'I wish they didn't exist, but since they do I can't destroy them.'

In sixth year Hermione had been genuinely worried about the danger of the Half-Blood Prince. But under her overwhelming anxiety for Harry, there had been a tiny seed of jealousy. He, who had never cared one ounce about potions, had access to an amazing well of secret knowledge. And that had only been a few careless scribblings. Now, she had four thick journals full of Snape's actual research. If she could only bring herself to open them, who knew what wonders she could find?

'Is there a spell you could use to take out all the snarkiness?' Ginny asked.

Hermione laughed. 'Sadly, no.' And that was the problem. These weren't potions textbooks. They would have Snape's essence stamped all over them. Snape, who had always had the power to eviscerate her with a few snide comments about a potions essay. She hadn't cared very much about his personal dislike of her, but his academic disapproval had always stung, because she had known how intelligent he was. And the proof of that was right before her. She had sworn that Snape held no power over her in death, but these journals would give him that power if she let them. If.

Harry nudged Ginny over so he could sit on her other side. All three of them sat on the couch, staring at the leather books. Harry broke the silence. 'It would feel kind of creepy reading them behind his back. If he knew we had them, he would murder us.'

'He knows, in a way,' Hermione said. 'Professor Sprout told me she saw Theodore outside the Headmistresses' office a few weeks ago. He must have spoken to Snape's portrait.'

'That's even worse,' Harry said. 'The thought of his portrait sitting there is downright spooky.'

'I think all portraits are sinister,' Ginny said. 'After what happened with the Chamber of Secrets, I just don't trust them.'

Hermione felt the same way, after their Horcrux hunt. Portraits had seemed fun and charming when she was younger, but now they gave her a slimy feeling. It would probably be a long time before that went away. And she wasn't planning to go near Snape's portrait anytime soon. Not without full body armour, an unflappable mind and an ironclad alibi in case she snapped and set the portrait on fire.

'Hey, does that mean Professor Sprout knows Theodore's your brother?' Ginny asked.

'Yep,' Hermione said. 'It's got to be the worst-kept secret of the Wizarding World. I already have my complaint drafted for the Prophet. They're bound to say something awful and defamatory when they finally break the story, and I plan to make them regret it.' Her affair with Draco would probably come out as well. She hadn't been that discreet today. She had left his role in the journals out of her retelling to Harry and Ginny. She had wanted their advice, and if she told them she had been sneaking around with Draco Malfoy they would have spent the rest of the night speechless.

Hermione got up to make dinner. She didn't cook very often because she was awful at it, but she was determined to conquer the skill no matter how many burnt disasters it took. Cooking would be a distraction, and there was perhaps a ten percent chance that there would be an edible meal at the end of it. Perhaps if she took the books down to the kitchen with her, there would be a little 'accident' and her problem would be solved.

Later that night, as they were eating some pizza she'd picked up down the street, her prayers were answered in another way. A black owl pecked at the window, and when she let it in she discovered a letter addressed to her from Luna. Luna had used golden ink on purple paper, so Hermione had to squint to read it.

'Dear Hermione,

I heard it's been raining in London. Rain can make the Fliverleys come out, and they have a nasty bite. A friend of daddy's is planning a camping expedition to see a special plant bloom near the Altean mountains. You should come with me. It would be almost like a sleepover. I never had the chance to go to any of those. We're leaving tomorrow. I'll bring you a hat,

Love Luna.'

Hermione raced off to pack her bags. She had never thought she would be this enthusiastic to get back in a tent, but if it took her away from those awful journals she would agree to go camping inside a volcano. She made sure to pack five of her own hats.